


Out To the Zoo

by Guanin



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set soon after "Everyone Has a Cobblepot". Oswald cashes in the favor that Jim promised him. What does he want? A day at the zoo. Which wasn't quite what Jim had been expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out To the Zoo

“I would like to spend the day with you,” Oswald said.

Jim stared at him, dumbstruck. Oswald had called him earlier and asked him to come down to the club, saying nothing more than that he intended to call the favor in, the one that Jim had been desperate enough to grant him to regain Harvey’s freedom from Loeb’s infuriating blackmail. Previously to the bizarre sentence that Oswald had just spoken, Jim had pictured Oswald forcing him to acquiesce to all sorts of odious things. That Oswald would use him to manipulate someone, to intimidate, to kill. He had come prepared to sell his soul further down the river. 

But spend the day with him? What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

“What would we be doing?” Jim asked, shifting uncomfortably in his wooden chair.

“Nothing criminal, I promise you,” Oswald said, his apologetic face beaming with reassurance. “I do not wish to put you in an uncomfortable position. I merely want to hang out. Have some lunch. Perhaps go to the zoo. Something relaxing. Our meetings are always so strained. All we talk about is business. I want us to do something different. Get to know each other in a different light.”

“Why? Why would you want to hang out with me?”

“Because I like you. Surely you’re aware of that.”

A blind church mouse would be aware of that. Oswald hung on to him like fleas on a dog. Alright, perhaps that was an unfair comparison. This weird friendship that Oswald insisted on had gotten Jim leverage on the commissioner, after all, as well as put Flass behind bars. Jim wasn’t so ungrateful as to dismiss that.

“I noticed,” Jim said, giving him a strained smile. 

“I thought that you would prefer this form of repayment to other, less palatable options.”

“This is fine. Lunch and the zoo. Sounds good. When?”

“This Saturday, if you’re not busy?”

“Saturday’s good.”

“Excellent.”

Oswald’s face lit up with a bright grin, so joyful that Jim had agreed to grace him with his presence, like every other time that they were in the same room together. The hell with it. Jim had ceased being unnerved by this little infatuation a while ago. If Oswald wanted to throw away a blank check to wander around the zoo with him, that was his business. 

`````````````````````````  
Despite Jim’s fervent prayers to whatever divine power who might be listening that a snowstorm would roll in on the weekend so that they would have to cancel their zoo outing, Saturday awoke to a glorious blue sky and a balmy 47 degrees, a record high according to the infuriatingly chirpy forecaster on the morning news. When Oswald called him at 9:30 to confirm his attendance, he had no choice but to say “yes”, trying his utmost not to let Oswald hear his resignation through the phone line. They agreed to meet at the zoo’s main entrance at 10:30. Despite the fact that Jim arrived ten minutes early, Oswald was already loitering by the gates. Like always, a brilliant smile appeared on his face when he spotted Jim. Good, ol’ routine. 

“You made it,” Oswald said, walking toward him. 

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“Well, you didn’t come to my party.”

“I did tell you I wasn’t coming.”

Oswald’s smile faltered.

“You did. You’re right. But I still hoped.”

He raised his shoulders in a wistful shrug. Aw, great. What was it going to take for Oswald to understand that they weren’t friends? Hadn’t it been clear that Jim had only returned to him out of sheer desperation? A favor for a favor. That was all this zoo trip was. He was more comfortable with this deal than with the “friends don’t owe each other” mindset that Oswald had going earlier. It defined their parameters strictly in the business camp. As carefree as this zoo outing sounded, that was all it was. Business. 

“What do you want to see first?” Jim asked, avoiding further mention of the party.

“Oh, we can just wander around. I want to go to the bird house and the lagoons, but that’s about halfway in, so there’s lots of other animals we can see first.”

So Oswald liked birds. Not much of a surprise.

“What do you want to see?” Oswald asked.

“I like the big cats. And the reptile house.”

Might as well make the best of the day despite the company that he was keeping. Oswald consulted the map in his hand.

“The reptile house is right around the corner,” he said. “Let’s go there first.”

So off they went to the reptile house. 

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Oswald said.

“Me, neither.”

“I come here with mother a lot. But these last few months have been so eventful that I haven’t had the time.” 

“Is it just you and your mother?”

The last thing that Jim wanted to do was converse with this man, but he couldn’t spend the entire day in silence listening to him talk. Like it or not, conversation would have to be had. And he would be kidding himself if he said that he wasn’t curious. 

“Yes,” Oswald said. “My father died when I was ten. Pneumonia.”

Oh. Not what he had expected.

“My father died when I was twelve,” Jim said. 

“What happened?”

“Car accident. I was in the car with him.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It was.”

And now they were bonding. Great. 

“I didn’t mean to start the day on such a depressing note,” Jim said, seeking to change the subject.

“The melancholia from our past is always lingering just beneath the surface. There’s no avoiding it, really.”

“Good point.”

In the reptile house, conversation slowed as they regarded the animals, which Jim welcomed immensely. He took advantage of the setting to split up from Oswald by viewing the first couple of lizards very quickly and heading straight for the back of the array of walled tanks where the pythons and boas were kept. He had hoped that Oswald would take a while to catch up to him, but only a minute after he had arrived at the boa display, Oswald’s distinctive footsteps slid up behind him. Jim stared at the curled up snake sleeping placidly on its branch, wishing that he could vanish the glass like Harry Potter so that all the snakes would escape, and he along with them when they evacuated the building. Of course, there was the slight snag where he was still roped in to a favor with Oswald. And he wasn’t a wizard. That, too. If he were, he wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. 

“You like snakes?” Oswald asked.

 _How did you guess?_ Jim almost asked, but that was too ill humored. 

“I have since I was a kid,” he said instead.

“Did you have one?”

“No. Mom wouldn’t let me.”

“Your mother didn’t like them?”

“Not so much.”

Jim moved on to the green snakes, then the iguanas, shuffling off every time that he heard Oswald coming closer. 

“Jim,” Oswald said, finally catching up to him in front of the chameleon. “You’re going through the hall rather quickly.”

“Restless legs.”

“Oh. Would you rather that we do some walking first? See some of the outdoor animals?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

He could always come back to the reptile house later. Without Oswald. 

The African mammals were next on the route. Oswald commented here and there and Jim kept his replies short and curt, not wanting to engage any more than he already had, the man’s presence making his skin itch. And so they moved from the wild dogs to the giraffes to the lions, Jim leading and Oswald trailing behind, his uneven gait scrapping on the dirt path. Jim struggled not to go too fast so Oswald wouldn’t fall too far behind, but he didn’t let Oswald catch up, either, seeking to avoid him as much as he could. When they were leaving the African section, Oswald called out from behind him.

“Jim!” 

Jim turned around. Oswald rushed over to him, his limp even more pronounced than when they began the day, his breath short, face shining with exhaustion. The African section was a large one, and they had gone all the way around it, most of it with Oswald having to play catch up. Jim kicked himself. He should have remembered Oswald’s injured leg.

“Do you need to sit down?” he asked.

“What? Oh, yes. I would like that.”

Jim searched around for a bench and spotted one a few yards away by the sea lion lagoon. 

“Let’s sit over there,” he said, pointing at the bench.

This time, he let Oswald walk in front of him until they reached the bench, then he sat beside him. Oswald’s breath was definitely heavy. Great. Now he looked like an asshole.

“I’m sorry I forgot your leg,” Jim said.

“I got the impression that you forgot me altogether. I have been chasing after you the whole day. You’ve barely replied to me when I’ve spoken to you. I asked you to spend the day with me, not suffer me like I’m some pesky fly that won’t leave you alone.”

Jim could argue that this was precisely what Oswald was, but that would be too honest. 

“Well, I didn’t exactly volunteer to be here.”

“Why are you treating me like this?”

Jim turned to find Oswald frowning at him, hurt shining in his eyes.

“Have I have been remiss in expressing my gratitude to you? I have volunteered you information. I’ve done you every favor that you’ve asked of me. I’ve been considerate and courteous and nothing but friendly to you and yet you treat me as if I were dirt at the bottom of your shoe. I could have asked for anything in exchange for leading you to Miriam Loeb.”

“You didn’t know you were leading me to her. And you made it clear that you weren’t going to do it for free.”

“But it was information equally as precious. And you know why I asked for anything at all, Jim. I told you that you owed me nothing for Flass because we’re friends, yet the next time I saw you, you practically spat in my face.”

“You promised me that no one would get hurt.”

Oswald hesitated.

“I did.”

“Then how come after we arrested Flass, Delaware showed up at the precinct and begged me on his knees not to hurt his family?”

Oswald actually had the gall to look confused.

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Really? You didn’t know that your subordinate threatened his family? I find that hard to believe.”

“I… No one was hurt.”

“Perhaps not physically, but they certainly were mentally. They’re probably racking up a sizable therapist bill.”

“What did you expect? For him to simply volunteer the murder weapon? Why didn’t you tell me about this? If you weren’t happy with what I did for you, you should have come to me.”

“What the hell for? For you to protest what great friends we are while we drink some more champagne? Please. We’re not friends. We would never be friends. We have a business arrangement. That is all.”

“Why? Why can’t we be friends?”

“Oh, please. As if I need to spell this out. You’re a mobster. I’m a cop. One that actually cares about the badge.”

“Your father was friends with Falcone. Clearly, he saw nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, I’ve become aware that my father wasn’t who I thought he was. But I’m not my dad. And I’m certainly not trying to imitate him in this regard.”

“You’re extorting the police commissioner. You’re hardly pristine yourself.”

“I’m aware of what I’m doing.”

“One could say that you’re calling the kettle black.”

“Say what you want. I don’t care. We’re still not friends.”

“Fine. Then don’t spend the day with me. Go, if you want to.”

Jim took a second to register this.

“And what favor will you demand of me instead?”

“None.”

Wait, what? Oswald couldn’t be serious. He was just going to throw away a free favor? 

“What?”

“Forget the whole thing. It was misguided of me.”

This had to be a ploy. But Oswald had hardly looked more earnest than he did right now, disappointment clouding his face, his eyes downcast, lips pursed.

“You want me to leave.”

“You obviously want to, so go.”

Oswald turned away, lips squeezing more tightly. Jim waited a beat, then another, but Oswald didn’t speak any further.

The hell with it. Jim got up and strode away, but after only a few, vehement steps, his feet ground to a halt.

Fuck. He couldn’t leave. If Oswald stayed angry at him, he would be disinclined to provide Jim any future aid, which might be disastrous. Jim needed to retain his compliance, which meant that he needed to return and apologize. A happy Oswald was a helpful Oswald. Jim could only push him so far before Oswald’s gratitude evaporated, stamped out by Jim’s continued disrespect. 

Fisting his hands for a second, he squared his jaw, forced his feet to turn around, and marched back to that bench and plopped down beside Oswald, who scowled at him, befuddled.

“What are you doing?” Oswald asked. “I told you to go.”

“You don’t want me to.”

“God, Jim. That’s not the point. I know better now than to subject you to my presence. And I don’t want to put up with your surly demeanor.”

“Then I won’t be surly.”

“You’re surly right now. Jim, I don’t want to prolong this fight. I’m tired. I just want to sit here for a bit and not think of you.”

“Well, too bad. I’m not leaving.”

Oswald’s mouth tightened, his glower growing more heated.

“If you wish to reconcile with me only so that I might grant you more favors, I’m not interested.”

“That’s not why I came back.”

“Then why did you?”

Damnit. So much for being smooth. 

“Alright, that is why I came back.”

“Obviously.”

“It’s not like you didn’t know that I was here against my will.”

“God, Jim. You make it sound like I’m forcing you to do something heinous. We’re looking at animals at a zoo. How horrifying this must be for you, having to suffer the great burden of standing by a rail and watching the lions take a nap.”

Great, now Jim really did sound like an asshole. He had been a little ungrateful.

“I am glad that you didn’t make me do worse,” Jim said, mollifying his tone.

“Of course not. I know what you’re limits are. I just wanted to spend one, pleasant day with you. Is that too much to ask for, detective?”

So it was detective now, huh? _Well done, James_ , he thought to himself.

“I guess not.”

They slipped into an uncomfortable silence, each of them watching the passerby without actually paying them any attention. Parents, children, couples, groups of friends all faded into a blurry soup of colorful coats. Jim leaned back on the bench, reclining on the wooden slats. At least part of him should be comfortable. 

A light drizzle began to fall. Oswald shifted, rubbing off a drop from his cheek, frowning slightly. Jim eyed his elaborate hairdo. Was Oswald the type to protest that rain was going to ruin his hair? He wasn’t moving yet. The rain wasn’t too bad. It didn’t even qualify as rain, being no more than a few scattered drops, hardly enough to get wet. Sunlight still streamed down in patches. As soon as the cloud overhead moved on, the drops would be gone. But Oswald was already pulling his coat lapels forward, hunching his shoulders to cover his expensive suit. Jim wondered if Oswald would ask to move or simply get up and leave, but despite his obvious discomfort with this sudden rain situation, he didn’t protest, as if he were waiting to see if Jim would make the first move. Jim smiled, bemused. Despite his insistent protestation that Jim should leave him alone, Oswald didn’t want to risk getting separated. If he got up, there was no guarantee that Jim would follow him. Better to get wet than risk that. It appeared that Jim’s source of clandestine favors was safe, after all. No worries on that account. But he was abusing, wasn’t he? This “friendship” was terribly one sided. Only Oswald wasn’t the one holding all the cards, like Jim had suspected. It was him. If he had abandoned Oswald on the bench like he had intended to, would Oswald have forgiven him and carried on like usual the next time that Jim stopped by the club needing help with something? Probably. Look how pliable he had been after Jim had told him point blank never to visit him at the precinct again. Oswald might have hemmed and hawed like last time to show his displeasure, but Jim would get his way in the end. He always did with Oswald. The man had been right. He had always been gracious to Jim. Kind, even. But not truthful. His assurance that no one would get hurt in the Flass case had been a blatant lie. Of course he had known that his subordinate would use violence against Delaware. How couldn’t he? Jim should have known that himself. It had been foolish to think otherwise. 

Still. Slippery slope. If he shut off all consideration for someone who always sought to help him just because he was a criminal, who would he take advantage of next? And was it not terribly hypocritical of him? Oswald had been right in pointing that out. Jim’s extortion of the mayor placed him on the wrong side of the law and he didn’t care. 

So. There they were, two criminals moping in the rain. Perfect.

“Do you want to get out of this drizzle?” Jim asked. 

Oswald gave a little jump and frowned at Jim, perplexed. Was he surprised that Jim had suggested something amiable? 

“I… Yes. That would be nice.”

Oswald shrugged, tucking his chin back into his chest before standing up. Jim stood up as well, waiting for Oswald to take the lead, which Oswald did after a moment of confused hesitation. Jim walked at his side a shoulder length away, making sure to temper his steps to Oswald’s pace unlike before. 

“Where are we headed?” Jim asked after a while. 

“The food area up here. It’s the closest thing.”

The enclosed food court was packed. It being a little past noon and still drizzling ensured that almost every table was taken. A loud din of echoing voices reverberated inside the high ceilinged room They had been better off on the bench, even in the rain, but it was too late. They were here now and Oswald needed to sit down. Jim wasn’t big enough of a jerk to forget that consideration twice. They found a small table near the back far from the long line stretching out from the ordering counter. It only sat two people, which probably accounted for its emptiness given that the majority of the patrons were families and groups. Jim and Oswald sat across from each other. Neither spoke for a while. Oswald appeared to be avoiding looking at him. 

“Do you want to get something?” Jim asked.

“No. I’m good. This, um… wasn’t where I envisioned us having lunch.”

Oswald frowned disdainfully at the chipped Formica tables and fast food burritos and burgers adorning the other tables, his nose wrinkled with distaste. 

“What did you have planned? A five star restaurant where a meal costs a week’s salary?”

“No. Not anything that luxurious. Just… Well, I would pay for everything. You need not worry about the cost. It would have been my treat since this whole misguided venture was my doing.”

“Would have been? So we’re not going anymore?”

“What would be the point? You don’t even want to be here.”

“So you want to call it a day?”

“I already did. You’re the one who keeps hanging around.”

Jim leaned back on the metal chair, slouching comfortably.

“Alright,” he said. “Then go.”

Oswald gaped at him, eyes wide.

“Why should I be the one who leaves?” he said after a moment of silent shock.

“Because you object to my presence.”

“You object to mine.”

“I came back.”

“Not because you enjoy the company.”

“Then stop moaning about it and leave. Or do you just like complaining?’’

Oswald’s face hardened with firm determination.

“Fine. I’ll leave.” 

He pushed his chair so hard as he got up that it scrapped against the floor with a loud screech that hurt Jim’s ears and made Oswald duck his head in embarrassment as people turned to stare. Raising his head in stubborn pride, he looked down at Jim with a cold expression and said,

“Good day, Jim Gordon.”

Then he left the food court.

And proceeded to loiter outside the entry doors for two solid minutes before he realized that Jim could see him through the glass panes that blanketed the walls all around the food court. After a startled glance over his shoulder, he scurried away, chagrin no doubt hurrying his pace. Jim snorted. Oswald was firmly in his grasp, wasn’t he? Getting up from the table, Jim exited the food court and followed Oswald, who hadn’t gotten far. He should have left straight away if he didn’t want Jim to catch him. Jim trailed behind him for a few seconds, strolling along just a few paces behind, waiting for Oswald to react. Oswald peered over his shoulder, scowling at him.

“Why are you following me?” he finally asked, sounding peeved.

“Why did you stand outside the door for two minutes?”

“I was… collecting my thoughts.”

Jim nodded sagely.

“Right. Did these thoughts involve you not wanting to leave?”

“No. Yes. The zoo, not you. I was deciding whether or not to view the rest of the animals.”

“And what did you decide?”

“To leave.”

“The parking lot is that way.”

Jim pointed behind them, the opposite direction from the one that Oswald was going in.

Oswald paused, an “oh, crap” expression flickering on his face for a second, then his eyes hardened and he kept walking, head held high in an amusingly stubborn fashion.

“I’m not going to the parking lot,” he said.

“You walked here?” Jim asked.

“No. I… I took the bus.”

“The bus stop is by the parking lot.”

Oswald jerked to a stop and turned around, glaring at Jim. 

“Fine,” he said bitingly. “So I got turned around. I’m allowed to get lost, aren’t I?”

“You said that you come here all the time with your mom.”

“Well… Yes. But it’s been a while.”

“Enough to forget the layout of the zoo? It’s not that complicated. Are you sure that you’re not feeling flustered by something.”

Oswald’s eyes narrowed in exasperated indignation, then he shut them, squeezing his hands into fists as he breathed slowly through his nose. Perhaps Jim should let up on the teasing before Oswald screamed at him to go away.

“I’ll repeat my question,” Oswald said, looking at Jim again, his anger under control. “Why are you following me?”

Jim shrugged.

“Because you don’t want to leave.”

Oswald sighed, weariness slackening his face.

“Why do you insist on perpetuating this circular conversation?”

“You’re the one who keeps bringing it up. I’m perfectly willing to continue our zoo visit without mentioning it again.”

Oswald peered at him for a long while, probably wishing to detect whether Jim was fibbing. 

“Fine,” he said, lowering his eyes in resignation. “Let’s look at some animals.”

A sardonic edge clung to the soreness in his voice. Perhaps Jim had pushed the teasing too far. 

They began to wander side by side, Oswald taking the lead like earlier. Passing the small mammal house to the left, they headed further into the park toward one of the manmade lagoons. This particular one consisted of a habitat crafted to look like a jagged cliff side at the edge of a tank dotted with scattered boulders. The white-grey hues of the fake rocks appeared to give it a frigid quality. Was this this the polar bear? No. As they got closer, Jim made out small shapes dressed in familiar white-black colors waddling on the rocks. Penguins. Huh. Had Oswald been aiming for the penguins? From the look of him, he was clearly a fan, or was it a coincidence that he went to such trouble to look like their gigantic, human shaped cousin?

“You want to see the penguins?” Jim asked, congratulating himself on maintaining a straight face. 

Oswald took a moment to answer.

“Yes. Do you?”

“Yes. I like penguins.”

They started gravitating toward the penguins.

“I like them, too,” Oswald said. 

“I kinda figured.”

Oswald frowned at him, looking suspicious again. Oh, shit.

“Why? Because they call me the Penguin?”

“No. I know you don’t like that name. Harvey told me. But you like birds and you did want to visit the lagoons. Besides, who doesn’t like penguins?”

Oswald’s frown didn’t fully lift from his face, the wrinkle on his brow making it clear that he was still unconvinced. Jim skirted his gaze away from his eyes and hurried toward the lagoon, spotting the colorful plaque that provided the species name and description. He reread the name, which consisted of a charmingly familiar series of letters. 

“And you introduced yourself to Barbara as Peter Humboldt,” Jim said, grinning triumphantly at Oswald. “Clearly, the name stuck in your head for a reason.”

Confusion slipped onto Oswald’s face.

“What?”

Jim pointed at the plaque. At the top in big, bold letters, it said: _Humboldt penguin_. 

“Oh,” Oswald murmured. “Well, I do like the birds and I come here a lot. The name just popped into my head at her apartment. It’s not like I planned a specific alias.” 

“I didn’t think you had.”

An awkward silence poked between them. They both turned to regard the tiny landscape. The penguins slipped in and out of the water, totally carefree, unlike their human spectators. A couple bobbed near them for a moment before sliding deep into the water and swimming out to the far edge of the cliff face, but Jim didn’t mind the birds as much as Oswald’s fingers gripping the railing. They slid over it, tapping uncertainly, his shoulders hunched, back upright.

“Do you think that I look like a penguin?” Oswald asked. 

Jim suppressed a sigh. _Here we go._

“Yes.”

He had been intending to say no or rejoinder with a deflecting tactic, but the hell with it. The man did look like a penguin. Oswald stared at Jim, mouth open in surprise at Jim’s blunt response.

“I don’t mean that as a slight,” Jim said. “But your suit. Your hair. Your… your nose. With the birds right in front of me, it’s kinda hard not to see it.”

Oswald shuffled a couple of inches away without wanting to give the impression that he was doing so, his back stiffening upright as he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, an air of hurt about him. Great. 

“Given how today has gone,” Jim said, “would you rather that I had lied to you?”

“No. I get it. You are only the latest of many who have thought so throughout my life. But I don’t go out of my way to look like one. I don’t do it on purpose.”

“I didn’t think you did. Look, I wouldn’t have said anything, but… well.”

“I asked.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay. It’s hardly the worst thing that you’ve said to me today.”

Ah, hell. Not again.

“Oswald—“

“No, I’m not trying to start a fight. We’ve done plenty of that for the day. People think that I look like a penguin. I have come to terms with that. It’s fine.”

Why did Jim get the feeling that Oswald was only being so polite about this because Jim had been the one to say it?

“I even acknowledge the name now,” Oswald continued. “I’m the Penguin. Gangsters have nicknames all the time. This one works for me.”

Jim nodded.

“You’ve owned it.”

“Yes. Precisely.”

They watched the penguins glide in the water. About half a dozen waddled on the rocks, heads bobbing back and forth as they went, the entire motion a little too similar to that of a certain man beside him, but that likeness was even less Oswald’s fault. Fish had shattered his leg. If she hadn’t wanted Oswald dead, Jim might have suspected that she inflicted that particular injury on purpose to increase Oswald’s similarity to a name that he hated and laugh at his pain.

Perhaps they should move on soon and leave this conversation behind. But there was one more thing that struck Jim’s curiosity. It wasn’t penguin-like exactly. Jim was hardly an expert, but he could only recall seeing one species of penguin with a crest and it looked nothing like Oswald’s. Because that elaborate hairdo was a crest. You could probably call him The Rooster and get away with it. 

“Can I just ask one thing?” Jim said. “Just out of curiosity.”

Oswald appeared dubious at the prospect of replying to anything having to do with this subject, but he acquiesced, saying,

“What is it?”

“Your hairstyle. Why do you have it like that?”

Oswald touched his hair, fingers pressing lightly on the black strands, a nervous gesture.

“I like it like this. Why do you ask?”

“It’s a little avian, don’t you think?”

Oswald’s eyes widened a bit. 

“No. I mean… It’s not supposed to be. Why do you say that?”

Jim reached behind Oswald, gliding his hand over the crest running up the back of his head. The product stiffened strands grazed his fingers.

“This,” Jim said.

Oswald stared at him, wide eyed, mouth open in a silent “oh”. Jim had stepped forward, reducing the space between them to less than a foot, and he was suddenly keenly aware of this fact. Oswald’s breath quickened in his chest. It was but the slightest change, yet Jim could see it rising on his layer covered body. A dusting of freckles spotted Oswald’s cheeks. Funny how Jim had never noticed those before. They softened his face, made him more approachable. More beguiling. His lips were slightly open. Tender. Jim’s gaze rested on them for the longest time, quietly intrigued. A thought, swift, unbidden, popped into his head. 

_What do Oswald’s lips taste like?_

The hell?! 

He jerked back, hiding the sudden hitch in his breath by quickly pressing his lips together. What the hell was that? No no no no no. He did not want to kiss Oswald. That was not something that was ever happening. Hell no. That was an astronomically, horrendously bad idea. Sure, the man was pretty and he hung on Jim’s every word and he wasn’t terrible company once given the chance and Jim may have actually started having fun in the last twenty minutes, but this… No. That was a firm no. Even if Oswald wanted to kiss him. Which he might. Jim couldn’t figure out whether Oswald had a crush on him or not. Every classic sign pointed toward yes. The eagerness to please. The happy smiles whenever Jim walked into the room. His heartbroken expression when Jim had refused to go to his party. That flirtatious, little shoulder gesture and head tuck when Jim had asked him for help with Flass. How he had stood outside the food court for two minutes after Jim had all but shoved him out the door because he didn’t want to leave. Did Oswald want a friend? Or did he want something else? 

Either way, it didn’t matter what he wanted if it was that, because that was not happening. Jim might put up with his presence (which actually wasn’t that bad) and smile when needed (though the smiles were more real now), but that was as far as he would go. No more. 

“Um,” Oswald stuttered after a moment, looking completely befuddled by Jim’s reaction. “It’s not supposed to be avian.” 

What? Oh, his hair. Right. This whole insanity had been prompted by Oswald’s hair.

Oswald felt said hair, carefully inspecting the shape with his fingers. “I guess I could have… unconsciously…” He lowered his hands, shaking his head, determination banishing the frailty of his earlier uncertainty. “I like it like this. I’m not changing it. I don’t care what associations others might see in it. It might not be to your taste, but it is to mine.”

“I like it.”

A fragile smile brightened Oswald’s face.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

He did, to his despair. The fanciful hairdo was more than just eye-catching. It enticed him with its strange beauty. A sharpened strand of Oswald’s artfully angled bangs strayed in front of his right eye. Jim pictured himself tugging it slightly up so he could peer unimpeded into that moss green, so soft, so tender in his surprise. Did he reserve this fragility for Jim? Was there anyone else who he gazed at like this? The man was a mobster. Jim had no proof of any murders or the like, but one didn’t rise to the upper echelons of the mafia without more than one body in your trunk. Yet that didn’t prevent them from having feelings. Oswald had proved that clearly enough. 

Oswald’s joy bloomed anew in a brilliant smile, softened by a shy head tuck, eyes lowering, flattered by Jim’s compliment. Maybe a little too flattered. Crap. Jim just had to bring it up the hair, didn’t he? He couldn’t just let it go. Oh no. So what if it made Oswald look like a bird? Who cared? And what the hell had possessed him to touch Oswald’s head like that? The man probably thought that he was flirting with him. 

“I-I’m glad you like it,” Oswald said, tongue catching on the “I”, too flustered to speak properly. He stood up straighter, yet he ducked his head for a second, suddenly shy even as he met Jim’s eyes, as if hoping for something.

So Oswald did think that Jim had been flirting. Fantastic.

 _Change the subject_ , he ordered himself. _Now._

“So, um… Do you want to keep looking at the penguins or do you want to keep moving?”

Real smooth. That didn’t come off as awkward at all.

“We can keep moving,” Oswald said.

“Great. I mean, we lost some time and I want to make sure that we get to the rest of the things that you want to see. So, which animals do you want to see first?” 

Jim started leading them away from the penguins, the little trouble mongers. So what if they were innocent? Blaming them made him feel better. 

“Whichever comes first,” Oswald said, tugging his map out of his pocket. “I think the bird house is coming up soon.”

“Let’s head there, then.”

The hem of Oswald’s coat brushed against Jim’s thigh as they walked. Jim widened the gap between them, convincing himself that he wasn’t fleeing anything. 

They meandered through the zoo, spending a leisurely amount of time at the bird habitats. Oswald regaled him with fun facts about each species, displaying a lifetime of bird knowledge, an excited light shining in his eyes as he shared this treasure trove of information with his new friend.. He was especially fond of the egrets and the ducks, and even stopped to watch a pair of seagulls as they ambled through one of the paths, despite the fact that the city was covered in them. Jim indulged every stop, listening dutifully, which had the unfortunate side effect of impressing on him the pleasing cadence of Oswald’s voice. See? This is why he didn’t want to come here today. No good ever came out of hanging out with a criminal. First he liked his hair, now his voice, and never mind that urge that must not be dwelled on. And, on top of that, he was actually having fun. With a gangster. Brilliant. 

_You already threw in the ethical towel with Loeb._

Yeah, yeah, whatever. 

They rested on a bench in front of the waterfowl lagoon. Oswald’s chattering about how the egrets raised their young faded out as they regarded the birds on their sandy perches among the reeds. It was hardly a tranquil scene. People crossed in front of them, leaning against the railing encircling the lagoon, blocking the birds from view for a few minutes at a time, children squealing around them. But the chilly breeze had calmed, and a pleasant smile had settled on Oswald’s face. He looked relaxed, peaceful even. At least Jim’s plan to mollify him had worked. He was assured of further aid in the future and they had both enjoyed a pleasant day (after the disastrous first hour).

“Would you like to go to dinner?” Oswald asked him.

Huh? The sun had completed its steady arc around the sky and was dipping below the horizon. The zoo would soon close, which meant that it was time to leave, and dinner was the natural progression of events, given the hour and the hunger gnawing in Jim’s belly, but, with the day technically over, was he obligated to say yes? Oswald’s tone wasn’t demanding, just quietly hopeful without wishing to give the appearance of being so. They had already spent the whole day together. What harm could dinner do? It wasn’t like they were on a date.

````````````````````````````````

_Forty minutes and a $300 bottle of Bordeaux later_

_Oh my god, this is a date _, Jim thought as he peered around the five star restaurant. Exquisite art nouveau decoration combined with an upscale dress code and $40 and up dishes made this one of the fanciest restaurants he had ever been to, and Barbara had dragged him along to plenty. Oswald wanted to impress him. He had also reserved a quiet table at one of the corners with a good view of the romantically lit space. His suspicion that Oswald had a crush on him shot up to 90% certainty. Should he ask? Would it be horrible of him to do so? Maybe it wasn’t a date. Maybe Oswald ate here all the time and didn’t think anything of it. It was possible.__

__“Are you having trouble picking something out?” Oswald asked._ _

__What? Oh, crap. Had his panic shown on his face? Oswald looked uncertain again. So he was nervous. Now why would a man who had brought another man who he showed every sign of having a crush on to a restaurant where the Gotham elite liked proposing marriage be uncertain? He certainly wasn’t going to pop the question, that was for sure. But how about a different question?_ _

__“I’m split between a couple of dishes,” Jim said, stalling._ _

__“Which ones?”_ _

__Uhhh…_ _

__“The um, steak and the crab.”_ _

__Crab? He always went for steak over crab. Everyone who spoke to him about food for five minutes knew that. It had just been the first thing that his gaze fell on. At least Oswald’s uncertainty was gone._ _

__“The crab here is excellent. I kind of expected you to go straight for the steak, though, or the ribs.”_ _

__Ribs. Now why hadn’t he said ribs?_ _

__“Yeah. Um… Sometimes I get a craving for crab.”_ _

__Right. Not even he believed that one._ _

__“Oh, well, you can get the crab, then.”_ _

__But he didn’t want crab. No that he would have minded getting it, but the steak sounded delicious and he would probably never be here again._ _

__“Well, I’m still not sure. What are you having?”_ _

__“The poached salmon. I’ve had it a couple of times before. It’s really good.”_ _

__So the Penguin was going to eat fish, huh? Oh God, he did not just think that. It was kind of hard not to, though, especially after seeing the penguins today and noticing how much Oswald’s nose looked like a beak and his hair like a crest and his pale skin like their white feathers. Not that any of it was unappealing. Not at all. It never had been. Jim just hadn’t stopped to consider, “hey, this guy is pretty” before. Well, not often. It was an objective observation, that was all. He was human. And possessed a sense of aesthetics. He could consider a man pretty and not want anything further than an occasional glance in said man’s direction. Say, due to the man being right in front of him, in which case, it was completely unavoidable. Really, why was he even worrying about this? He didn’t actually want to do anything. Oswald was a criminal. End of discussion. Not that there was a discussion. At all. Didn’t he resent having to spend time with Oswald this morning? He distinctly remembered that. Well, the gangster hadn’t changed just because they had bonded over their dead dads and Oswald was disturbingly cute when flustered. Or that Jim could make him flustered so very easily. How did he have such a strong hold over this man? So he saved his life once. This wasn’t a fantasy novel. Oswald didn’t owe him a life debt. And if he thought that he could corrupt Jim for his own ends, he certainly knew better by now. Not that he had tried anything like that. Which left the crush theory. Which fed the “is this a date” question. Which also begged to know why this possibility inspired a tingle of curiosity instead of the rational urge to drop the menu and excuse himself before compromising things occurred._ _

__Maybe he was just tired and couldn’t muster the energy to be bothered. Yeah, that was it. Or… Well… It had been a while. That thing with Lee hadn’t worked out and clearly all the sun that he had absorbed today had scrambled his brain. So what if it was only 45 degrees outside and the sun barely warmed anyone? It was still the sun’s fault._ _

__The waiter came by to take their orders and their menus, leaving Jim with no crutch to hold on to or stare at to avoid looking at Oswald. Who was already looking at him. Quite expectantly._ _

__“So,” Oswald said, smiling lightly. “Did you enjoy the zoo?”_ _

__“I did.” Surprisingly enough. “It was a nice day. Very informative. You sure know your stuff.”_ _

__“I read a lot. Well, much less now that I don’t have as much time. And you know plenty yourself. I’m glad that we returned to the Reptile House. I had no idea that there used to a snake that was almost fifty feet long.”_ _

__“I’ve done a lot of reading, too. And I watch plenty of nature documentaries when I get the chance.”_ _

__“Me, too.”_ _

__And so they continued to discuss their favorite animals, which lead to a tangent about the extinction of the dinosaurs and whether an asteroid had been responsible, which morphed into bemoaning the death of Littlefoot’s mom from _The Land Before Time_ , and somehow talking about pterosaurs morphed into both agreeing that they wanted to see the new bat exhibit at the Gotham Natural History Museum. Which prompted Oswald to say,_ _

__“We could go together.”_ _

__And Jim hardly hesitated before saying,_ _

__“Yeah, that would be nice.”_ _

__Then time froze, shocked into a full stop as Jim realized the enormity of what had just occurred. Oswald’s favor day was over. Jim was under no obligation to prolong their contact with another outing. It would hardly be intelligent to do so, but the words had slid off his tongue so easily, their conversation so natural and carefree. It made sense in a weird, incomprehensible way. It did. This had become one of the most enjoyable days that he had experienced in a long time. He quite relished their conversation. Who knew that a mobster could be agreeable when you got them to speak about brontosaurus instead of corrupt cops?_ _

__“Great,” Oswald said, grinning joyfully. “Next Saturday?”_ _

__Oh, what the hell. Jim matched his smile._ _

__“Next Saturday.”_ _


End file.
